


A Girl and Her Demon

by Hoodoo



Series: A Girl and Her Demon [3]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Backstory, Bathing, Biting, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Bodily Harm, Celestial Being, Cunnilingus, Deadly Injuries, Demon Sex, Demons, Doggy Style, Emasculation, Excessive Amounts of Come, F/M, Forced Self Injury, Fucking, Killing, Knife Wounds, Maggots, Mention of sex, Mentions of Rape, Minor Christian theology, Other, Piss, Rebellion, Revelations, Shower Sex, Threats to angels, Unsavory images, Wards, Woman on Top, Wounds, care, disturbing imagery, fight, mentions of torture, tattooing, witchery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-09-16 07:46:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16949898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: You've taken the Demon in; now you have to live with it.





	1. Chapter 1

Living with the beast was something of a trial. If you were savvy enough you could have sold the premise to a TV network, but your witchery took other paths instead of a commerically creative one. 

It was so weak, from both the abuse it suffered in its realm, and because you’d woven two spells together when you decided to allow it to stay. Not only did you give it access to leave the confinement, but you added some to dampen its potential power. You didn’t deceive it; it repeated what you bid during the ritual and voluntarily drew the proper symbols on the floor. It knew you were muzzling it.

Stripped of arcane power and physically broken, you assisted it down the stairs from the attic room. You’d have drawn a bath to clean it, but it would have barely fit into your bathtub. Not wanting to contort it and cause it further pain, you simply filled the tub and used the water to wash it.

It grumbled and hissed warnings at you, telling you it would clean itself, that its tongue was better at removing maggots and poison from the wounds it sustained. You ignored its insistance and used a cloth to wipe it clean. You weren’t sure if it’d ever been washed before; it squirmed and whined like a child. Its internal body temperature was so hot its skin steamed from contact with the water.

You discovered the maggots did bite, as one latched onto your finger. You yelped, and the demon immediately grabbed your hand, moving more quickly for the first time than it had since it left the circle. Its tongue wrapped around your finger, dislodging the parasite. 

Once back in its mouth it crunched it between sharpened teeth, and spit the dead flesh back to the tile floor. It hit with a splat, oozing purulent slime that smoked.

“They’re venomous. Don’t touch them,” it told you.

You’d learned that the hard way; your finger was already swollen and an ugly shade of purple.

The beast eyed your wound and your finger was encircled by its tongue again. Then it was engulfed by its mouth, sucking hard on the digit. It would have been mildly erotic, if your finger hadn’t felt like it was in a potential meat grinder. 

Each second that passed you wondered if you were going to lose that finger to its maw. It may not have supernatural powers here, but physically it could still do you damage. Soon, however, the demon released you.

Your finger was pale and wrinkled and numb. The demon retched and spit a copious amount of the same pus-like liquid onto your floor, where it too smoked ominously. 

Leaving it in your bathroom for the moment, you fetched a pair of tweezers and a dented metal bowl that you knew you’d have to throw away after it was used. At the bottom of the bowl you crushed a handful of herbs and plants selected on the fly through your house, plus a splash of holy water. You mixed it all with your hands as you chanted under your breath while you hurried back to your guest’s side. 

It’d been working at getting the parasites out while you were gone. There were more chewed bits of flesh and smoking piles of liquid sizzling on your floor. 

You told it to let you have access to its back. It protested again, then reluctantly did as you asked. 

It wasn’t an easy task, digging semi-intelligent maggots out of its wounds. Each one fought the tweezers. They all died quickly in the bowl you’d brought in, though.

The demon asked if you wanted to save some of the poison, as it was quite rare in this realm. With a shrug, you found an old glass apothecary bottle, dipped it in the same holy water, and held it steady while the demon bit the parasites to death and spit the resulting pus into the receptacle. 

In the end, you had approximately an ounce, which if sold in the right market could sustain you for a good half year. 

Parasites gone, it sighed with relief and told you the endless chewing of the maggots was designed to drive their host insane. It was glad it could no longer hear them. Even before you were finished, some of the very narrow cuts had started to heal over. It was still cross-hatched with a multitude of other wounds that would take a long time to fill in, however. 

You were exhausted. You assisted it to your bedroom and offered it your bed. It eyed the mattress and frame and decided the floor may be a more stable choice. 

With you on the bed and it on the rug, you drifted to sleep. You should have had the wherewithal to ask if demons slept, but you were gone before you could.

⁂

Your new roommate didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep, either, you eventually learned, when you woke up out of a sound sleep to find it looming over you. You tried to remain calm and collected as you asked in a sleep-roughened voice what it was doing, but it slunk away without answering. You watched until it disappeared out your bedroom door. 

It prowled around your house at night instead of staring at you, after that. You could hear it shifting through your belongings, pulling books off shelves, digging through cabinets. You let it do as it would. 

During the day it stayed up in your bedroom, where you kept the shades drawn so it was dark and quiet. When it was curious or seemed to want some company, it tucked itself between your couch and the wall in a space that was too small for it. You got used to its golden eyes following you as you worked or read or prepared spells and rites.

If someone came to call, you shooed it back upstairs. 

You didn’t know it was eavesdropping until after your latest visitor left. 

It slunk into your kitchen while you were tidying up and asked, “You help people?”

You nodded distractedly. “Sometimes. When they really need it.”

“Or when they’re willing to pay enough?” it replied.

You looked over your shoulder; it was tapping a claw on a neat pile of money the woman who’d come by had left. It grinned.

“Money is the root of all evil.”

“The _love_ of money is the root of all evil,” you corrected it. “I don’t charge for services. People pay what they can afford.”

“Do they pay you in things besides money?”

“That’s a little personal.”

It snorted a laugh. “I mean livestock. Food.”

“I’ve offered you food,” you reminded it. 

It hung its head, a little. “I don’t eat . . . cooked food,” it admitted, hesitantly. You didn’t know why it would be ashamed to tell you this. Its golden eyes met yours again. “Would you have a visitor who would bring roosters? Cats? Goats?”

You could infer that on the tip of its tongue there was something even less savory it would like to ask for. Before it could continue, you told it, 

“I’ll see if anyone has chickens.”

Its eyes lit up at the semi-promise, and it slunk away again. 

After that you occasionally had to deal with birds in the house, but you didn’t mind too much. You asked specifically for white roosters, for the feathers, and there was always some extra blood to use when you needed it. 

You dabbed it in deft patterns on your doorways and window frames as you chanted over them, and occasionally added it to the soil of certain potted plants as well.

The demon watched you with baleful eyes while you repeated these rituals every other day, but it never asked you why you put wardings on the entrances.

⁂

It grew more comfortable in your presence, and you in its. You gave up inviting it to sit on your couch, and took to sitting on the floor to keep it company. It usually stayed in the tight spot between the furniture and wall while you sat with your back against the couch. The space it tried to occupy didn’t hold all of it, however, and occasionally its tails made it to the floor beside you.

As you were read one evening, you absently stroked one of its twin tails, when it rested beside you. It growled automatically, but choked off the noise itself; it seemed to have been more a knee-jerk reaction to your touch than a threat. 

You considered this for a moment, then asked if it would like to sit next to you, instead of against the wall.

It didn’t respond. You went back to your book, silently memorizing passages and key words again.

Then, without warning, the whole piece of furniture moved as it scrambled up. Off-balance, you were buffeted by it physically and by the heat that rolled off it. It butted its head between your body and the book you were holding, settling its head into your lap. It looked up at you with narrowed eyes as if daring you to challenge it, but startled, you couldn’t find the words to protest. 

It found a more comfortable spot for its shoulders and glanced at the book. 

“A grimoire?” it asked, as if it didn’t know. You only read through it every night. 

“My grimoire, yes,” you told it. 

“That wording is wrong,” it announced, reading through the exposed page without asking permission and bringing a taloned finger to point at a particular passage. “And blackthorn bark would be a better choice, if you want more potency in the spell.”

You realized it was right. Instead of pushing it off your lap, you allowed it to stay as you made corrections to your living book. In that way, you both passed many evenings. You’d taken to running your hands over the curve of its horn as you read, and that seemed to please the beast too. A deep rumble--that first you thought was another growl, but soon realized it was more akin to a purr--would start deep in its chest and it never asked you to stop once you’d started caressing it. You grew intimately familiar with each ridge and crack in its headgear.

Many of its wounds healed. Some wept for a long time, and it allowed you to collect the serum-y discharge in other tiny glass bottles to sell. They eventually stopped oozing, but remained open, bloodless scratches that continued to look painful, even if it insisted that they didn’t. 

You finally took an opportunity to ask about its genitals. It was no bother to you that it was naked, there were many times you were naked too, during specific rituals, but your curiosity about it couldn’t be kept quiet.

“You said they repeatedly castrated you and make you eat them?” you asked, eyeing the pendulous bollocks and flaccid but impressive cock between its thighs.

It snorted. “They could’ve made me a eunuch permanently if they’d wanted. But it was more entertaining for them to allow me to regenerate, so they could do it again and again.” 

It didn’t seem too upset providing that information. However, its fingers went to and traced at the symbols on its shoulders that had been marred and broken by the whippings it had suffered. The way it didn’t have to look to follow the patterns indicated to you that it touching them was habitual. As if it a common gesture it did frequently.

“But these . . . they used a whip that causes non-healing wounds. The enchantments don’t work as well on my kind compared to humans, but it still managed to destroy these brands . . .”

You remained silent, thinking about weapons like that.

The demon took your silence for a bid for more information. “Broken lines don’t convey power,” it whispered shamefully. 

You’d gotten much more comfortable touching it, and dared to cup its jaw in sympathy. 

There was a pregnant pause.

The demon turned its head in your hand, and licked your palm. 

The touch of that wet, slightly sand-papery tongue sent electricity coursing up your arm to settle in your gut. 

Although it had explained it had no demonic power like it did the first time you’d coupled with it, you pulled it to your bedroom anyway. 

The two of you broke your bedframe that night.

_tbc . . ._


	2. Chapter 2

Living with a demon who watched as you performed rituals and sometimes assisted in your spells, you gained esoteric knowledge that you didn’t have to auction off pieces of your soul for. Your craft grew more powerful. Your spells came easier, lasted longer, and were, like it had said, more potent. You were sought out to assist other like-minded people with their own work. 

You didn’t mind it. Occasionally. 

It meant you had to leave your house, of course, so you always put up extra precautions and wards. You also refused to be gone more than twenty five hours, so if someone wanted you longer than that you declined, no matter how lucrative the offer may be. 

You walked up the sidewalk to your house. There were still fifty minutes to go before your personal deadline had passed. You’d left two roosters for your roommate, and for some reason, you could still hear one squawking in the pen in the kitchen. 

That wasn’t good.

You realized you could hear it because the kitchen window on the side of your house was broken. 

With fear hurrying your feet, you ran to the door and fumbled the key into the lock. As you passed through the doorframe, there was a slight pressure that indicated the wards on the house were intact. You rushed to the kitchen to find shattered glass all over the counter and floor. The rooster jumped and made noises of offended protest that you startled it; you ignored it.

The blood sigils you’d drawn were still visible on the window sill and the frame. Whatever–whoever–broke in here hadn’t smeared them as they climbed in. That mostly likely meant common thieves, because a rival looking to enter your house would have instructed them to make sure the protections had been removed.

There was a thump overhead.

You grabbed the nearest weapon you had at hand–a steak knife–and rushed to the stairs. 

You found them in your spare bedroom. It’d been torn through and was in disarray. Not only was the closet opened and the small safe you kept there pulled out, but the room had also been ransacked by the vicious game the demon had decided to play with the uninvited guests. 

One was nothing more than a pile of meat, mostly splattered into a corner and up the wall. The shape was vaguely human, minus a head and with more blood on the outside than contained in the flayed skin suit. You could see the body wore jeans but nothing else recognizable was present. 

The second man was face down on the floor, sobbing. His jeans were soaked with blood too from the backs of his knees. You’d interrupted your roommate crouched over the man. It looked up at you warily, with unblinking eyes, like a predatory beast preparing to defend its kill. The only movement it made were its twin tails whipping in agitation behind it.

You sighed and lowered the small knife. 

The sound you made filtered through to the man who’d been hamstrung.

“Help me!” he shrieked, his voice cracking. “Oh god, help me!”

You took in the room again. 

“It killed Jim, oh god, it killed Jim and ate his head–help me please–”

“I’d like his teeth, please. And his ring and pinky finger from the left hand, with no flesh on them. The right pinky too, although I’d like that whole if possible,” you told your demon casually, ignoring the pleading for mercy completely.

With a wild delighted laugh, your demon lowered its head, drooling blood, and licked the man’s ear without breaking eye contact with you, while the man below him lost all capacity for words as he screamed in abject terror.

You gently closed the door behind yourself and went downstairs to sweep up the broken glass in your kitchen. 

Later, when it was all said and done, the beast came to you. In a gore covered paw, it presented you exactly what you’d asked for: teeth and three digits. You set them in the back of a cupboard specifically prepared for human body parts near jars of fingernail clippings and a miniature bags of hair trimmings. 

When you turned back around, the demon hadn’t moved away.

It exuded a nervous energy the likes of which it hadn’t had since you allowed it out of the circle in your attic. It looked dangerous and well fed, for once, and grinned with self-satisfaction as it sucked drying blood off its fingers. 

“I suppose from the state you’re in, the room is still a mess?” you asked. 

It grinned more widely, and nodded.

With a sigh of resignation, you told it you expected help cleaning it up.

For some reason, that made it chuckle. “I’m a mess too, angelbaby. Maybe we should take care of me first?”

Angelbaby? It hadn’t used that term since you’d summoned it up, when it was in the prime of its power, and you’d laid it. It was feeling quite full of itself, after the rush of adrenaline it had gotten stalking and consuming the intruders. 

You felt a rush of adrenaline too, even as it towered over you, splattered in blood. Whether it was the aura pleased smugness and vitality that made its presence seem larger and more appealing, or if it had somehow woven a simple spell into the term of endearment to make you responsive to it, you couldn’t deny you were suddenly, unexpectedly, turned on.

For the second time that day, you rushed upstairs. It would have taken you there, against the kitchen counter or on the kitchen floor, but you told it you wanted it clean, so it grumpily agreed to allow you to wash it. When you didn’t move quickly enough on the stairs, it scooped you up and carried you, bounding up the steps with enough force to make them creak in protest. 

Since you were smeared in blood now too, you joined it in the shower. It was too tall, of course, but cramped itself in at your request. You washed yourself, and washed its skin too. Under the spray, its hide smoked. The water that managed to run down the drain was red. There may have been something to read in those eddying, bloodied waters if you were so inclined to look for patterns, but you were otherwise occupied with something much more urgent. 

You cleaned its entire body, not just face and neck and chest and arms. Coyly, you gave special attention to its groin, laughing as it cursed in impatience at your teasing pulls to its enlarging cock. You’d never be able to blow it properly; its cock was too big to be remotely comfortable in your mouth, but you did kneel and licked the underside of its shaft, and sucked the head between your lips.

With a pleased growl, its talons snagged into your wet hair. From your position you looked up at it while you continued to lick it. Since your fingers couldn’t even meet if you tried to encircle it, you used them both to stroke as you used your tongue at the tip. 

It shuddered. You knew this position-–looking up at it, lavishing devoted attention to its cock-–fed into its need to be superior. You’d done it many times, and been rewarded with an explosion of come that drenched you from your face to your tits. You always needed another washing if it came on you like that, so being in the shower wouldn’t be a bad choice, but you were too turned on to let this be the main event. 

At least it let you turn off the water before picking you up, soaking wet, and taking you to the bedroom. In an absurd maneuver it fell backwards as it hoisted you away from its chest; it landed with a heavy thud on your mattress and you were deposited directly onto its mouth. 

The fall was a dramatic one, since you never bothered to replace your bedframe and kept your mattress on the floor. You might have broken a lesser man’s neck, landing without moderation on its face like that. You spread your thighs but its horns scrapped your knees; you couldn’t care about something minor like that as its tongue, always eager, swirled through your folds and dipped into your cunt. 

It licked and sucked you greedily, as if dispatching the men who had dared to break in hadn’t sated it. It fucked you with its tongue in a way no mortal man could, causing you to arch your back and drive your pussy harder onto its face as you cried out. Horns made a good handhold for you to steady yourself; it’d only been stimulating you for a short amount of time but already an orgasm was building in you.

When it paused and its tongue retreated, you whined. Looking down, its eyes caught yours and very carefully, it nibbled your clit with its teeth.

There was no controlling the sound that erupted from you. You were set on fire and every muscled contracted at the gentle nips at your most sensitive spot from a potentially dangerous mouth. There was also no controlling the rush of liquid as you came, soaking it. The beast between your thighs laughed with delight as it lapped up the wet, replacing yours with a thin layer of tacky saliva.

You sagged for a moment, still supporting yourself by holding its horns. As you relaxed, your limbs trembled. Carefully, you climbed off its face. 

Its tongue, slipped through your folds one last time. 

Its face held a light sheen from your wet and its spit. Boldly, you wiped its chin, collecting some of the viscous liquid, and used that hand to lubricate its cock.

The beast groaned and you threw your leg over it again. On your knees, you held its cock steady as you eased down onto it, impaling yourself. Your cunt was loose and slick from the orgasm you’d just enjoyed, but you still went slowly, allowing yourself to relax in stages on it. There was a blissful combination of pleasure and pain as it filled you; its girth was almost to the point of being too much.

But with gravity helping and by watching the demon watch itself disappear inside you, you sank fully onto it. The backs of your thighs met the tops of its, and you sat without moving for a moment, just reveling in the sensation of its cock stretching you. You’d learned to enjoy the feeling of the heat of it filling your belly.

“Angelbaby …” it murmured, in a much softer voice that you would have expected to hear. It raised a taloned hand and flicked your nipple, making it harden at the attention. 

“You feel so good inside me, Rick,” you whispered. 

Its eyes widened and a slow grin stretched across its face, looking the combination of smug and sly that you’d never seen on anyone’s face but the demon’s. It managed to raise its shoulders without displacing you, and it took a mouthful of tit, its front teeth latching onto your nipple with the same pinch as it had your clit. 

At the pleasure it sent along the nerve-endings there you automatically arched against him. Getting a handhold on its shoulders, you fucked it. 

Heat from its body matched the heat that built within you. When you were on top, you never went as fast or as hard as it did while it had more control. You rocked. You kept it buried deeply inside your cunt as you gyrated your hips. Its massive cock stretched your pussy so much there was no need for extra stimulation to your clit, because contact was made without extra work. You liked to cant your pelvis for maximum pressure; being filled so much plus the white hot bliss from your clit always meant it didn’t take long for you to reach the pinnacle of pleasure. 

You cried out as you came, and when you regained your bearings and were loosened even more, you moved more to your lover’s liking: actual thrusting, raising yourself up and dropping yourself back down onto its length as quickly as your trembling legs would allow. 

It assisted by planting its feet on the mattress below and bridging its body stiffly. When you had to pause a moment because euphoria started to overwhelm you again, it did the work, holding your waist to steady you and fucking upward with sharp movements of its bony hips. 

With each thrust wanton, needy sounds erupted from you. You leaned forward, chest to chest with the beast, and mimicked its possessive posturing by opening your mouth and biting a healthy amount of its neck between your teeth. Below you, it mewled and laughed. The vibration of its amusement tickled your lips and you playfully shook your head, still holding it like you could actually do some damage if it wasn’t a demon and you weren’t human. 

It held you almost too tightly to it, and roared as it came. As always, the heat of its come was more than your core body temperature, so it filled you with a burning warmth that you’d been conditioned to enjoy. You smiled and gave it a final nip at its neck as it shuddered through the aftermath of climaxing. 

You relaxed fully on top of it. Its cock took longer than a human’s to lose its erection, so your cunt stayed filled with a pleasurable burn around it. Eventually, though, the residual sparks of overworked nerve-endings were more ache than bliss, and you had to shift off it. As always, there was a gush of semen that flooded out of you.

Typically you’d get up and wash off, but this time the demon caught you and held you close. It curled around you possessively. Protectively. You allowed yourself to be gathered to it. You heard some murmurings that may have been words–“angelbaby” and “mine”, perhaps–and feeling secure, you fell asleep cradled in the warmth and strength of it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter (I know); more is coming

At its request, you occasionally left a window open, to tempt would be intruders. Your house was passed by, much to the demon’s chagrin and displeasure. 

To soothe its rage of having to consume lesser meat, you did invite it to cavort with you in your small back yard, during night of a lunar eclipse. It happened to be a late fall evening, and because that ritual was best performed nude, you were selfishly grateful for its high bodily temperature, as it lifted you and fucked you while it stood. 

Before euphoria shut down your higher senses, you saw that it seemed to be lost in the dim light. At the peak of the eclipse, it lost form. You could still feel its arms holding you up, its chest against yours, and its cock filling your pussy, but you couldn’t see it. It became a wispy shadow beast, tangible but invisible. It was a familiar and new experience all at once, and you shrieked your pleasure. Even its come had a black, nebulous quality to it as it ran down your inner thighs after it finished.

The grass that was splattered with its ejaculate after it pulled out died.

Even if the eclipse was fleeting, you invited it outside when you worked other rituals and spells in the dead of night. It helped or didn’t, on its whim. 

Life was what it was.

It wasn’t until one night, with your demon curled around you again--you both took comfort from the position--that a searing touch on your forehead awakened you. You opened your eyes to a blinding silver light, and realized the odd domesticity two of you had created had not escaped notice.


	4. Chapter 4

~The beast is bound~

The words–-the voice?-–rattled in your head and made you groan in pain. Beside you, your demon did not move, even though you knew it didn’t sleep and tended to keep a watchful eye over the you and the premises.

Worse than the paralyzation, its skin felt cold.

You received no response from it as you stroked its face, its arms, its chest. Your heart pounded against your ribs and you spun to the room, to look for whatever spoke to you and did this. You were alone. 

The light that woke you seeped around the ill-fitting old door of your bedroom. Stroking your demon’s face again, hoping it could feel you, you got up from the mattress on the floor and threw the door open. 

What stood in the hallway was so bright you could barely make out the shape of it. Opening the door also subjected you to a noise like a melodious roar that created uncomfortable pressure on your eardrums. You were effectively blinded and deafened for a moment.

Then, like a switch had been thrown, the light and noise was gone. It took several more seconds before you could use your senses again, however. 

When you were finally not incapacitated again, you could see the celestial being was still cloaked in a white light that prismed and threw rainbows across the walls and ceiling. Its outline was hazy, but you could determine it was nude and heavy appendages adorned its back. You could not tell if it was masculine or feminine. 

As angry and frightened as you were, you still nodded politely. Decorum dictated it.

You could sense rather than see a benevolent smile on its face. 

~We have been monitoring you,~ it said in the same dulcet voice that woke you, although it didn’t make your head ache this time. 

“God sees every sparrow that falls to the ground?” you replied, trying but failing to keep the sarcasm out of your voice.

~Yes. We worry for you.~

“You don’t need to.”

~It is our nature. Each soul is precious. There is redemption, even for you.~

You rolled your eyes at the angel. “Maybe I don’t want redemption. This is my path.”

~You should have tread more carefully.~

“But I didn’t. I made my decision.”

It seemed to shake its head; the light radiating from its head moved from side to side a bit. 

~This demon has corrupted you.~

You laughed. “That’s what he said you would say. And I have corrupted him. We’re even, I think.”

You still couldn’t see the angel’s face, but felt that it was bewildered. ~He?~

You didn’t feel the need to answer that query. “We are fine here. Leave us alone.”

The angel held a hand out, splintering the light. ~You know not of what you are forfeiting. I have bound it temporarily, so we may talk without interruption. Allow me true access to the beast, and the Kingdom of Heaven’s gates will be open for you again.~

You remained silent, and didn’t move out of the way of the bedroom door. 

~Child of God, it is in your human nature to make mistakes. Allow me to help you rectify them, and all will be well. Allow me to take my brother back, allow me to exterminate the essence of it, and you will be put back upon the Lighted Way.”

“Your brother?”

The angel cocked its head as it replied sweetly, ~Did you not know the beast you called upon was one of the Fallen? Did you never question the scars upon its back, where its wings were amputated? Did you never question its twisted body: the horns, the forked tongue and tails? All signs of one who rebelled, who Fell from Grace and was punished. 

~To extinguish it would help restore the balance towards the Light. It would allow me to bring glory in victory to God once again!~

“Ah,” you said, in realization. “You don’t want _me._ You want _him.”_

~There is no _him._ The beast has no gender.~

You ignored that quibble and accused it loudly, “You want to kill him! You want to raise your own status!”

The angel seemed taken aback. ~I want to rid the world of it, yes. I want–God wants–its foulness to be purged.~

“I didn’t know angels could lie.”

~I am not lying. I want it gone.~

“You want to be more powerful–”

~You wanted to be more powerful, witch!~ it interrupted. 

“That is also a lie. You think I summoned him for power? I didn’t. Tell me, angel, what power would it give you, to kill him?”

~I would not receive power for ridding the world of it,~ it insisted. 

“Really?” you countered. _“Really?!”_

The being did not deign to respond to that line of questioning any longer. Instead, it went back to its previous promises. 

~You have debased yourself, but we are forgiving. We understand our flock may stray.~ 

Now you couldn’t tell if it was benevolence in its voice, or condescension.

“You’ve called me witch, angel,” you spit. “I know God’s words and decrees on my craft. There would be no forgiveness for me.”

~With your assistance, after the obliteration of the beast, I may be able to sway the Hosts. Without your assistance, I can make no promises to your safety. You have strayed.~

Your anger flared. _“I’ve_ strayed? Have you strayed, angel? Does God know you’re here?”

Once again, it seemed taken aback at the venom in your words. ~I am still on a righteous path.~

“Really?” you demanded. “How is the righteous path threatening me and killing him?”

~You are confused,~ it said, in a soothing voice. ~The beast has turned your head. Take my hand, and you will see the Light. It will fill you and your mind will be clear again.~

It reached forward, to hold your hand.

“Don’t touch me!” you yelled, stepping back from the being. 

The angel’s wings flared, slightly, but it respected your wish.

~Child,~ it began again.

You didn’t let it continue. “You think you can just kill one of your brothers? If you truly wanted to help him, if you truly wanted to save him, you’d take him back to Heaven and welcome him! You’d allow him to take his place by your side!”

~That is not possible.~

“Why not? Why can’t you? Because there is a limit on forgiveness?!”

~There would be forgiveness for you.~

“How? Why? That doesn’t make any sense! You are supposed to be the carrier of God’s word, his embodiment of his love and forgiveness, and you can’t even _consider_ taking him back? He’s Fallen, so he’s unchaste? He’s too far gone to consider for redemption?!” A sudden, blinding thought came to you. “I’ve done more to redeem him than any of his brothers have! With me he’s been patient and protective. He’s flawed, but aren’t we all, in God’s eyes? It isn’t your place to say who may or may not be forgiven, angel. Instead of telling me how you’d slaughter him, why don’t you tell me how you’d save him?”

As you listed the angel’s inferiority of not emplifying God’s words and the way you’d done the work it was supposed to, the light surrounding the celestial being dimmed.

This new epiphany drove you. “I have made him more human, angel. Could you do the same? How would you bring him back closer to the Light? I think I have. I think being human makes it more likely God would forgive him–what would you do, if you were actually following God’s plan? Could you even do what I have done?!”

There was a faint tremor in the angel before you, before the light surrounding it exploded as its wings expanded. It looked dangerous, larger and more intimidating. You were blinded once again as it roared, 

_~I certainly wouldn’t fuck it!~_

Its voice was no longer harmonic. It had dropped several octaves and was akin to the deep, dominating voice you’d heard from your demon, when he was in the prime of his power. 

For the second time tonight, you were sightless and deaf facing the being. 

By the time you’d regained your senses, the angel had calmed once again. 

~Child,~ it said, again sweetly, as if it hadn’t shown that angels and demons were quite closely entwined, ~child, let us be rid of the beast together. Your soul will be cleansed–~

“Get the fuck out of my house,” you growled. You tasted salt; with a start you realized there was blood streaming out of your nose. Your skin felt hot and abraded, as if you’d been sunburned. 

~Child, the beast has beguiled you. It tempts and it deceives; therein lies its nature. It doesn’t allow you to see the consequences of your actions. If you continue with it, yes, it may become more human-like, but you may become more demonic. That would most displease the Hosts, and the window for your forgiveness may close forever–~

“Get the fuck out of my house!” you repeated loudly. “You’ve entered uninvited. You’ve attacked–bound–a guest in my home. You have threatened me, and insulted me. _You aren’t wanted here.”_

~Child,~ it pleaded, and it sounded infinitely sad.

“Get out or I will use the feathers in your wings to stuff pillows!” you screamed. 

Although you still couldn’t discern features on the being’s face, you could sense it was disgusted. Instead of arguing further, however, it only unfurled its wings again, although gently this time, so not to incapacitate you. It had no actual feathers, only the suggestion of them, created by your mind because you had no other reference. However, one of the primary tips from one appendage brushed your forehead, searing a thin line there. It was the same sensation that had woken you, and you realized you’d been touched by the being twice. You wondered if it had left a mark. 

Then, in a blink, it was gone, leaving the space it occupied dull and empty. 

You rubbed your eyes and your upper lip of the tacky blood that had started to dry there, then hurried back into your bedroom. 

Your demon was still in the same position on the mattress. Now that it was a natural dark in the room again, you could see a faint shimmer of celestial bindings around his torso and neck. As you knelt beside him, they began to fade. 

You touched them with your bloody fingers, and that broke them apart more quickly. His skin was ice where they had been. You also wiped your face again, and put your fingers into his mouth, so he could have fresh blood to taste. He sucked feebly at the offering.

You held him, this time. 

“Stuff your pillows with its wings?” he croaked, his voice low and weak. His body trembled minutely and he huffed, and you realized he was laughing.

“Yes. I don’t need uppity angels telling me what to do.”

His chuckles shook you both.

It took a long time for him to be able to move again. You stayed with him, using your smaller body to try and warm him. You ran your hands over him in long strokes. Your fingers couldn’t help find the wicked scars on his back that you now knew were once where his wings had been. They’d been incorporated into the other raised brands on his skin. 

“You gendered me,” he said, quietly.

“Yes,” you agreed again. “I hope that’s all right.”

He nodded. “Like my brothers, both Fallen and within Grace, I am all and nothing. You didn’t voice you wanted male when you summoned my presence, but it was written in your mind. I am what you want me to be.”

“You were an angel.”

“I was within Grace,” he agreed. 

“Do you … do you regret your decision? To rebel?”

He was silent a long time. You wondered if you offended him, or if he need more rest to recuperate. Finally though, after such a long pause you figured you wouldn’t get an answer, he replied, 

“I believe that our cause was just, but ultimately flawed. God always has a plan. The Morning Star’s sin was pride; ours was envy. We envied God’s love of his imperfect earthly creations–people–and wanted to be seen by Him as higher than you. We envied the free will he had bestowed upon you. We are still envious, which is why we want you with us, and we take the pain we suffer being away from God out on you.”

The demon turned his golden eyes to yours. 

“My brother was right, you know. You may endow me with human-ness, but you may be vitiated into the demonic.

“I would not wish that on you, if I could stop it. We simply all want to be loved.”

That was the most human thing you’d ever heard him say.

_tbc …_


	5. Chapter 5

There were no further angelic visits to your home. You wondered, a little, about what exactly that would mean for you, once you’d left the mortal realm, but no one truly knew what the next step of the journey would take, so you did not dwell on it. 

You should have been more concerned about other beings’ interest in your situation, instead of the future. But as weeks passed, it seemed like your unexpected visitor was a fluke.

Then, for the second time in the middle of the night since breaking the circle and allowing the demon to take up residence here, you were blinded by light bright enough to shine through closed eyelids. You had the wherewithal to bring a hand to your eyes and shield yourself before opening them, this time. 

Your bed was empty beside you; your demon was gone. The bedroom door was opened, and the flickering light that you could see looked like fire. 

Scrambling up, you darted to the door. You didn’t, however, forget the bone knife that you decided to keep by the mattress. It was the strongest weapon you had in the house, and after the visit from the angel it seemed wise to keep it close. 

Clutching the handle of it so the blade rested against your forearm, you ran into the hallway. 

The noise that had made your ears ache when the angel visited you before was nothing like the dissonance and gibbering that assaulted you now. It was like pushing against a wall. It hurt too, and you raised your hands to cover your ears. When the knife blade came close to your head, the sound lessened. Quickly you cut the air with the knife, and found it easier to move down the hallway.

You called for Rick, but your voice had no purchase against the cacophony. 

Holding the knife in front of you like it was dividing the waves of sound, you made your way to the first floor, where the blaze seemed to be. It took a second for your eyes to adjust to realize your living room wasn’t burning..

The being that stood in the center of the room was draped in fire that licked its extremities. The light was still too bright to see more than a general outline of its shape. It looked human-ish, even if it was too tall.

When it noticed you on the staircase, several things happened at once. The blaze surrounding it flickered and died, and the discordant noise that you’d been buffeted with disappeared too. It dawned on you that it had been speaking, because you could see its mouth close as the sound faded. It also seemed to shrink, just a little, as if the fire was what kept it large.

“Welcome,” it said, in a voice full of charm and warmth.

The creature no longer wreathed in flames was comely. Tall and perfectly proportioned from its head with its perfectly symmetrical, handsome face to its wide shoulders and narrow waist, all the way to feet, it looked as if it had been sculpted by a master of the human form. It smiled at you. It conveyed lust and security and genuine interest; everything someone may want. It smelled strongly of roses.

“I’m so glad to see you,” it continued. “I’d been hoping we could meet. Please, join us.”

You stood completely still on the stair. 

“Rick?” you called quietly.

“I’m here,” he answered in a low voice. Now you could see him, crouched on his haunches near the doorway of the room. 

“Please,” the lovely creature in standing in the center of your living room said politely. “I would love to meet you properly, but this beast is barring my way. Would you join us, so we may talk civilly?”

“Angelbaby,” Rick said softly, “it is uninvited and it lies.”

The creature’s long-lashed eyes blinked as it looked at your demon with an amused half-smile. Then it lifted a hand, palm-upward, to you. 

“I don’t lie,” it said, in an offended tone. _“Angels_ lie.”

Truthfully, it was hard to resist.

You carefully finished walking down the stair and into the wide doorway, closer to your demon than the being that had invaded your home. 

Rick was on all fours, his tails lashing, growling so deeply it was more a suggestion than a sound. He looked wary, and from his crouched position he seemed ready to spring forward or retreat; he was just undecided. You would have liked to place a hand on him, but he was wound so tightly you were seriously concerned he would lash out at you in misdirected aggression.

The intruder grinned widely. You held your weapon up, and it chuckled at your bravado. 

“Thank you for joining us,” the uninvited demon said. 

“I’m not joining you,” you replied, refusing to let it get the upper hand with a play on words, although you felt less confident about kicking it out compared to the angel. “I’m here to get you out of my house.”

That made it laugh even harder, and maggots fell out of its mouth to the floor. They were the same you’d picked out of your demon’s hide, but without a host and because you’d washed your floors in the same concoction of holy water and herbs that you’d used to kill them before, they burst into flames when they landed, before shriveling and dying.

“Oh, that is embarrassing,” the uninvited said, a hand flying to its mouth as if it had committed a serious faux pas in etiquette. It used the tip of one finger to push a final maggot trying to escape back into its mouth. You saw its throat work as it swallowed. “My apologies! Sometimes I just simply cannot contain them.”

You swallowed the bile that had risen in your throat. “If you don’t lie, then why don’t you show me your true form?”

“This _is_ my true form,” it replied, sounding offended. “Well, at least one of them. I only thought it polite, since you are human.”

“It’s deceptive. Show me your true form, or I will force you to.”

The mock offense on its pretty face slid off and it scowled. Before it could reply, however, your demon opened his mouth and produced a sound so jarring you jumped. The uninvited did not. 

“That was rude to say to a guest,” it admonished. 

“You’re no guest, Fallen!” you countered. 

The scowl became a snarl. “And that was even more insulting! I’m no _Fallen–”_

As it came to the end of its truncated sentence, its voice dropped an octave, as if the word was the worst obscenity you could have thrown at it. It also shook and stretched, and its beautiful human body melted away to its true shape. 

The beast that stood before you still retained a vaguely emaciated humanoid outline. It had no face, however; its head was adorned with only scraps of burnt flesh. The rest was the naked bone of an animal, a mutated bovine or caprine skull. Its maw held multiple rows of needle-like teeth, silhouetted against the roaring fire inside its throat. Stretched tightly over the rest of its thin body was charred, blackened skin. If you concentrated, you could see runes and sigils carved into its leathery flesh. When it moved, its joints opened and the flames were there, inside it. Its horns were long and wicked, and the talons on its hands plus its hooved feet were polished to an ebony shine.

“Does this form please you more, demon-fucker?” it asked you. 

“No. Get out of my house. I’ve placed protections and wards in this home, you entered uninvited and unwelcomed. Get. Out.”

It laughed, and its tongue, long and split and the color of rotted meat, lolled.

“These wards? These precious little nothings?” it asked, waving a hand vaguely at the seals and sigils you’d marked around the entryways. It shifted its weight, as if it was going to take a step.

The warning growl from your demon increased in volume, and he tensed. The uninvited ignored him and spun on its heel to go to the nearest window. Lifting a hand as if to scratch at the runes you’d marked there, it didn’t actually touch them. Instead, it leered over its shoulder at you and continued, 

“These are cute. They may keep out Fallen, but for me, they’re just petty pictures you’ve drawn to make yourself feel better.”

With that, it pissed on the wards, spraying your window frame with a thick liquid that smelled like oil and rot, cut again with the scent of sweet roses. The blood sigils smeared and ran and their shapes became soft. It laughed again as it profaned your home. More maggots fell passed its lips. They writhed and lived slightly longer in the pooled piss on the floor.

When it finished, it turned back to the two of you again. 

“Now,” it said in that same deep, blistered voice, “I think you’ve misunderstood, demon-fucker. I told you to join us.”

“I came into this room so I could cast you out,” you replied. You worked very hard to not let your voice shake. 

“No, no, no,” the uninvited corrected you, stepping forward. Once again your demon’s growl increased in volume, and the rattlesnake warning of his two tails filled the air with vibration. The demon towering over you continued, “I didn’t mean join us down here, in your house. I meant join us for eternity.”

Your hand shook a little, as you continued to hold the knife upward. 

“We miss our brother. Our little … _plaything,”_ the beast said, gesturing to Rick. “I’m here to welcome him back, and to bring a new toy back with him. You.”

Its smoldering eye sockets turned back to you. “We’ll have such fun, witch. You’ve got a body to play with, and a soul to devour.”

“Get out of my house!” you tried again.

A lazy smile slid over its face again. “We allow some witches to have familiars. You know this. But those are imps and lesser beings. And those witches splinter their souls for the privilege. But you! You’re keeping my brother–a Fallen!–as a pet, when no proper exchange was made. You’re something special, and I’m sure my brother can’t wait to share!”

You glanced down at Rick, whose unblinking eyes never left the uninvited. 

“If you make proper adulations, demon-fucker, perhaps an agreement can be struck. One that would be agreeable to both you and us.”

You could imagine what that could entail. Already its barbed cock was stiffening, and fiery precome dripped from it. Like the maggots, it sizzled when it hit the floor. You fought the sinking feeling in your gut that heralded wanting to vomit again.

The beast stroked itself idly. “We can grant you power, if you submit. Worship us, and you will have strength and prestige beyond what you’ve ever known.”

When you didn’t reply, it smiled anyway. “We’re offering you something rare. It is of course your choice to refuse. We encourage free will, unlike the ones who truckle and lick God’s feet. We adore free will, because we will take you anyway, and breaking you will be sweeter.”

Once more Rick spat a guttural sound in infernal language. Whatever he said snapped the uninvited’s attention back to him.

“I extend you the same choice, brother,” it offered. “Join us again. You’ve been missed! Bring your depraved lover with you!.Think of the fun we will have with her. Tasting her tears, hearing her screams, exploring her from the inside. I bet you’ve done some of that already, haven’t you, brother?

You’re no incubus, but think of what pleasure you and I could have with her body between us. She’ll be our slut, our slave, and the bliss we would take from her would be–-dare I say?–- _divine.”_

Your demon, still growling, sunk lower to the ground. His tails still vibrated in agitation. It was difficult to tell if he did that in preparation to attack, or if he was trying to appear submissive.

The beast addressing him only grinned more widely, its tongue licking its teeth. The points of them were so sharp they lacerated it. That didn’t seem to bother the demon; it drooled pale blood over its lips and down to its chest. 

It mused, “You have so little power here, brother. I see that most of your wounds have healed, but some of your brandings are no longer whole.”

You almost argued that he’d been injured and maimed by their hands, but the uninvited continued speaking.

“Bring this defiled slut with you, and we will re-brand you. We will correct the damage done, and you will have your power again. You miss it. You miss the strength and influence you wielded. Come back to us, and you will enjoy all you had before.”

Beside you, your demon became very still. His tails stopped moving.

The uninvited’s smile widened. 

“You had such influence over these pathetic beings. That could be yours again, brother. Let me remind you how enjoyable it is to watch them try and resist–-”

It turned its smoldering eye sockets back to you. This was not the same gaze it laid upon you before; this was intense. It was hateful and it hurt, and with barely any other suggestion except a minor flicking of its fingers, your hand holding the bone knife you’d brought down raised upward against your will.

Your entire arm shook in the effort to not obey. That made the uninvited chuckle, and with another slight motion it made you twist the knife downward. You couldn’t stop. You didn’t know what it was going to make you do. You couldn’t contain a bleat of fear that burst from your mouth, and tears flowed down your cheeks.

The beast moved both fingers downward, sharply, and against your will you drew the sharp blade along your forearm, opening your skin and flesh easily. Your sob of fear turned to a cry of pain as muscle parted and hot blood coated your arm.

“You’ve fucked her,” the uninvited told your demon, “but have you flayed open her chest and licked her beating heart as she stands weeping in front of you? I offer you your place back, brother, to do such things. Join us again, and those pleasures shall be yours again.”

It held its gnarled hand out. Your demon hadn’t moved, except to cock his head a tiny bit. He seemed to be considering what the intruder had said. He’d stiffened even more, and that scared you more than anything. He was offered his power back. He’d be restored in the hierarchy of Hell. He’d take it. He was a demon, he would rejoin his brothers, Fallen and Hellfiend alike, and drag you back to the nether region to be tortured and tormented for eternity. 

Slowly, Rick’s attention turned to you. The coldness, the blatant eagerness in his eyes frightened and disheartened you. You sobbed. He’d made his decision, and you were forfeit. You’d never be able to get away; if you tried to run you’d be dragged down before you made it out of the room.

He licked his lips and flexed his shoulders.

The uninvited laughed at your fear, and said something untranslatable in their language to your demon. 

Rick nodded without looking at the other demon again, continuing to stare you down.

“Think of how much of her sweet blood you’ll spill and drink,” the beast encouraged. 

Although almost numb with terror, you couldn’t help reach a hand to the demon that you’d summoned and allowed into your home. You’d both been cursed by what you’d shared. You didn’t want to be dragged to Hell. You didn’t want to lose him. Maybe you could sway him to have mercy-–

Blood, still dripping from your sliced arm, struck him. He didn’t flinch, but his split tongue found the droplet and licked his skin clean. 

_“Brother, we will have such pleasure with her!”_ urged the uninvited gleefully.

You tried to hold in a gaspy sob as beside you, your lover lowered himself in preparation to spring.

_tbc …_


	6. Chapter 6

There was a subtle change in your demon as his tongue slipped back into his mouth and he continued to hold your gaze. Not much of one, and one you may have never noticed if you hadn’t spent inordinate amounts of time with his head in your lap, or with him curled around you at night. You still trembled from the adrenaline in your body, but you took a deeper breath than you’d been able before. 

With a quick, decisive movement, hoping beyond all hope you were making the right decision because if you weren’t all was lost, you stroked your demon along his shoulders with the fingers dripping with gore. You connected the broken lines of the brands carved into his hide with your own blood. Finally, you shoved your fingers into his mouth, into a maw filled with teeth like a shark’s, and wiped them clean along his tongue. 

Your demon shrieked as arcane power that had been stripped from him returned. The open-mouthed scream was triumphant and angry, and filled the air with a wavering dissonance. It was not unlike the noise you’d been subjected to earlier, but it didn’t hurt. 

The intruder howled as well at the sudden inflation of power in the demon before him, and that did put pressure on your eardrums.

Rick leapt at the uninvited with no hesitation. 

The two demons met with a resounding slam of bodies. They clawed and bit and grappled each other. You were frozen, watching the fight. 

“Replace the wards!” your demon roared at you, and that made you scramble to the window. 

While the fight raged on behind you, the air filled with the demonic language of spits and guttural curses, you tried to replace the sigils that had been smeared by the piss that had ruined them. Your blood wasn’t the best to use–the scent of it was attractive compared to a lower animal’s, and it might draw more unwanted attention–but leaving an entrance without protection was even worse. However, the foul ichor from the demon left a slimy coating and your blood beaded up on it like oil on water.

You attempted to re-create one symbol several times with no luck. Finally, in desperation, you wiped the blade of the knife still in your hand in the tacky blood on your arm and used the tip to carve the symbols directly into the window frame. Again, it wasn’t the most proper, but any protection was better than none. 

When you finished, you held you wounded arm to your body and turned around again. 

The fact that the room was tight was both good and bad. While your back had been turned you hadn’t realized the uninvited demon had been trying to reach you, to prevent you from closing the portal it created by destroying your wards. Rick held it off, fought it to keep it from you. With a cry of alarm at the outstretched, wicked talons, you scrambled backwards as fast as you could in the slipperiness of the piss on the floor.

Your demon grabbed the intruder by its horns and hauled it back. Then in the same movement, while his fellow demon was off-balance, he landed a solid blow to the back of its head, staggering it.

The uninvited found its feet and spun to face Rick, and threw a fist. Rick absorbed the blow with a yelp and grabbed his brother’s wrist, twisting the arm up and away against its elbow. The demon snarled, maggots once again erupting from its mouth but finding purchase this time, latching to Rick’s chest and arms, burrowing inward. Against the pain you could tell the intruder was obviously in, you watched it dislocate its hip with a snapping noise and drive its taloned foot into your demon’s abdomen. Its momentum broke the hold Rick had on it, but once again it was off-balance.

Your lover used its instability against it and swung another open fist, intent on clawing at its neck and face. The intruder dodged but stumbled back and slammed against the wall. Your house seemed to shake with the impact and the glass in the windows rattled.

You ducked out of the way as best you could. 

Your motion didn’t distract either of them, this time. Your demon was faster and the other had brute strength, but in the tight quarters of this room, neither could manage final, decisive strikes. Wounds from claws and teeth opened up on both of them. The floor became splattered with the thick blood you were more familiar with and a fiery ichor that leaked out of the intruder. This was incredible in the worst way; this was fueled with intent to maim and kill. 

You weren’t stupid enough to try and step in. There was no way around the two of them, so you pressed yourself as small as possible into the corner, clutching your knife. The house continued to be rocked as they wrestled and threw each other.

The intruder was bigger, but Rick fought it with a ferocity that was terrifying. You watched as he relentlessly fought his opponent until the other went to a knee. With a scream that sounded disturbingly like it was joyful, your demon twisted the other demon into an unnatural shape, using its horns for handholds while he straddled its back. The talons on his feet tore wicked wounds into the other’s hide. His tails wrapped around its arms as well, holding them and their sharp claws away. You thought he was attempting to break its neck and wanted to turn away.

“Here!” your lover snarled, and you knew it was talking to you, not the beast below it. “The knife! Sever its brands!”

You scurried forward, more frightened by disobeying than the wounded, shrieking demon being pinned to your floor. 

The heat from it was intense. You saw that most of the wounds inflicted on it–on both of them, to be honest–were healing. Still, you raised your blade.

The uninvited roared a word that you didn’t understand, but you felt singed as well as dirty, like you should be ashamed of what you were doing, as it passed over your skin. That made you angry, and with only a bit of hesitation, you sliced at the first brand you could reach, over the left side of its neck.

The second the bone blade cut into it, the demon wailed and writhed.

_“Again!”_

You lashed out and repeated the cut to disfigure the marking etched into the skin on its chest. Getting a feel for it, you slashed again and again, at any place you could see the brands of power in its hide. Your demon cackled at your ardor and as the beast below him grew weaker. 

Finally out of breath, you stumbled back. Your hand hurt from gripping the handle of the knife so hard, and pale blood had splattered both you and the floor in your frenzy. 

Now Rick twisted the uninvited’s horns again. It wasn’t in tandem, to break its neck, but in opposite directions, as if he was attempting to split its skull in two. That didn’t happen, however; with the pressure and torque being exerted on it a fine crack appeared in one horn and with a final, anger-fueled yank, your demon snapped it off his opponent’s head.

The demon who’d dared invade your home screamed in agony. 

Tossing the ruined, fractured horn aside indifferently, Rick gloated over at the beast suffering below him. You thought he’d be done; he’d bested the intruder, he’d broken and flayed it open on your floor. But he kicked the other demon over, his talons either rending wounds it had suffered deeper or opening new ones. As the beaten creature sobbed tearlessly, your demon went to his knees and leaned over the other’s groin, opening his mouth as if about to suck its cock.

Ineffectually, the other demon tried to hold him off, but it was weak. Rick grabbed the hand that was attempted to grasp him and snapped its fingernails backward, tearing them from its fingertips.

Then, as the beast spit and sobbed and tried to push itsself away, he pulled its cock into his mouth and bit it off with a surprisingly loud sound. Instantly soaked in blood from the horrendous wound and ignoring the flailing distress of his brother, he casually spit it out and lowered his head again to take both of the creature’s bollocks.

Those, too, were discarded with an impassive callousness. Those fleshy bits of demon smoked and shriveled on the floor. 

Your lover got to his feet. 

“Get the fuck out of this house, and don’t dare to enter again,” he bellowed at the demon broken before him. 

Without argument, without threats, the demon disappeared in a blaze that you had to close your eyes against. 

By the time you could see again, Rick had turned to you. Bathed down his front in blood and gore, he flexed his shoulders and exuded an aura close to the raw, dangerous power he’d had the first time you’d summoned him and he was contained within the protective circle you’d drawn. 

He looked down at you with deep hunger in his eyes. You hoped again you hadn’t made a mistake using your own blood to paint his markings whole once more. He seemed feral and dominant, and almost crackled with vitality. 

He leered down at you, his tails whipping behind him as he lowered himself into a crouch. Every survival instinct in your body screamed internally that this was a deadly beast in front of you, and you were prey. You licked your lips with a suddenly dry tongue and said in a shaky croak,

“Rick–-?”

He pounced.

_tbc …_


	7. Chapter 7

The weight of him, the strength of him, bowled you over. You lost the grip you’d had on your only weapon; the bone knife went skittering across the floor. You contained a scream, but barely; his talons broke your skin and his jaw unhinged wide enough that you could feel not just his first but his secondary rows of teeth on the thin skin of your neck as he shoved his head under your chin to grab you there. 

Pinned down with your head shoved so far backwards it ached, tears of pain and fear leaked from your eyes. You tried to hold him off, but your hands couldn’t find purchase on him, and even when they did, you were nowhere near strong enough to move him. He clawed at you a moment, and you were terrified he was going to gut you. His body was hot. The other demon’s blood down his front smeared into the wounds he opened in your skin, and it stung. His weight was enough that it was getting difficult to take a real breath. You were too scared to move much, in case that enraged him further.

You were vulnerable. Not only had he clawed you, any second he was going to puncture the skin of your neck and your blood was going to fill his mouth. He had continued to growl and pant, and a thin veneer of drool had soaked your neck. You could feel it in your hair. He could literally tear you apart at any second; you gave him back some power and he was going to rip you open–-

“R-r-rick,” you stuttered hoarsely, using the last of your breath. “Rick, please …”

You gave up trying to push him upward and off you. Weakly, you let go of his arms and shoulders and grabbed his horns. Instead of trying to wrench him off, you stroked along their curves. They felt familiar now, each ridge and nick a tactile map you’d memorized, although the minute cracks he’d sported had filled in.

Above you, Rick tensed at the caress, then relaxed a tiny bit. His intimidating growl hitched a second, then resumed in a slightly lower vibration. You felt his jaw click as it opened further, and he released your neck.

“Please _what,_ angelbaby?” he purred. 

“Pl-please–-” you started, but he’d already begun to let you go, so you didn’t know exactly how to complete the sentence.

As he pulled the tips of his claws out of your skin, every single mark he’d left on you throbbed in pain. Your torso, arms and thighs were painted in your own blood. Rick looked down at you, flicking his glance over the injuries he’d carved into your body. When he looked back up, there was a smirk on his face and his tongue–you’d never actually figured out how long it actually was or how exactly its length fit in his mouth–slipped over his lower lip to lick a line up your torso, between your tits.

Trying to catch your breath and not one hundred percent sure he wouldn’t turn the tables on you again, you focused on controlling your trembling limbs.

His tacky saliva was a bit of a balm, you realized, and when he dipped his head again to lap at you, your body automatically arched up to meet him. This time he ended the motion by catching a nipple between the tips of his tongue, coaxing it to tighten and stand up. 

As frightening as what had happened previously, adrenaline still coursed through your body. Because of it, the difference between fear or arousal walked a thin line, and his caresses tipped the scales from terror to exhilaration. Your right hand slipped to the back of his head to hold him in place a moment, to lavish more attention on the nipple in his maw.

Rick chuckled, apparently amused at you suddenly wanting more and not pushing him away. You felt his erection growing on your upper thighs, and shifted to open your legs and accommodate him. 

In an explosion of movement however, startling you enough to make you cry out in alarm, Rick grabbed you again and twisted you around. Suddenly you found yourself on your belly, your sensitive nipples smashed into the wooden floor, the cuts he’d given you on your front bursting into pain again, molded into a position he dictated by lifting your hips. You tried to push yourself up to give your aching torso some relief.

But Rick had slithered between your knees, between your thighs, and you felt the wide head of his cock slip along your folds. You only had a moment to steady yourself before his cock pushed into you, opening you up in a way that made you cry out with now-familiar sensual ache that always accompanied him fucking you.

It was like the first time, when you’d summoned him to you. He’d been forceful and demanding then, bending you over so he could be in a superior position, his pace brutal. With your blood connecting his marred brands, you’d given him back some power he’d been stripped of and he roared in triumphant pleasure.

Sharp moans erupted from you with each of his thrusts. His cock, as always, almost overfilled your pussy but you loved it. You risked losing your balance by reaching back to your pussy with one hand to stretch and cup his balls. You let your fingers slide on his shaft as he rocked in and out of you; you used your palm to press into your own clit to send more shockwaves of bliss through your stomach.

Rick fucked you hard, but at your touch he did something new: One tail swept forward, knocking your supporting arm out from under you. You went to the floor with a gasp. He shifted with you, disengaging one leg from between yours to be outside, giving him more room and maneuverability. His cock almost slipped from you and you grasped it, the heat of it warming your hand. When he settled back into position, his chest pressed against your back, he shoved his hips forward again to refill you completely.

His weight pressed the air out of you again and you wheezed for breath. This time he seemed to realize your struggle and lifted himself minutely off of you. You pulled your trapped arm out from between your body and the floor. There was also just enough room that you had a bit of freedom to twist your torso under him; you reached up and back and found a handhold at the base of his horns. That position arched your back and stretched your shoulders. You dug your toes into the floor for some stability as he continued to impale you with his cock.

Your pussy felt ablaze. You hadn’t realized the difference there had been, with and without arcane power flowing through him. Not that he wasn’t strong and dangerous with broken unholy marks carved into his skin, but now there was a deeper sense of potency and dominance. The sounds you made as he fucked you were wanton keening. You wanted more and more; you wanted him to fuck you till you were aching, till your legs hurt, till you couldn’t recall where you ended and he began. White hot ecstasy began shutting down your higher thoughts, and shamelessly you begged him to keep going, fuck harder, harder, fill you up with his come–-

Rick lowered his head but didn’t dislodge your grip. He bit you–truly bit you, you felt his teeth break skin–-on your neck and shoulder, and roared in his release with his flesh between his fangs.

As always, his ejaculation was so much it pushed you to the edge of actual pain. The heat of it radiated through your belly, and Rick stopped moving with his cock buried deep inside you. The internal pressure of both his cock and his come made you stay very still for a moment. In your pause, Rick snapped his hips forward just a bit more, and you were undone. 

You sobbed as you came. You may have been twisting his head as you held onto his horns, but you had no control over what any of your limbs were doing. Residual bolts of bliss sped through you, and tears continued unbidden from your eyes.

Rick chuckled smugly and licked at the spots his teeth had punctured you as you gradually relaxed in the afterglow. He stayed sheathed within you moments longer than usual, and when he pulled out with the rush of semen you were accustomed to, your pussy throbbed and felt empty.

He left you there, laying on the floor, trying to catch your breath. With your head on your arm, you watched him cross the room. The bloody trails you’d drawn on his back looked flaky. He walked to the horn he’d torn from the other demon’s head. Its shine had faded to a matte black, and it smoldered a little. He ignored the shriveled organs he’d bitten off, but brought the horn back to your side. 

“Turn over, angelbaby,” he directed.

With a groan, you obeyed, even if you didn’t understand what he wanted.

He crouched beside you on his haunches. His cock and bollocks dangled freely between his thighs. Lowering his head, he licked you clean with his tongue. It was slightly abrasive and did a thorough job; smears of blood were removed and in their place was his viscous saliva.

When he finished, Rick scrutinized your body. He paid special attention to the wounds he’d opened on you. Some he nodded at; at others, like the injury you were forced to inflict on your arm with the bone knife, he scowled. He slipped a hand under you and helped support you so he could examine the teeth marks on your neck and shoulder. 

You wanted to ask what he was doing, but he still carried that dangerous aura about him, as if he might snap. You held your tongue.   
Once he was done, his scowl deepened but he lay you back on the floor. With heavy concentration, he traced over the marks he’d made with the claw on his first finger. It tickled, then he pressed harder to open new tracks on your skin and it hurt. 

You winced and automatically tried to move away from the pain. You went as far as to grab his wrist.

Rick snarled at your audacity. He wrenched your hand off him, squeezing your wrist painfully as he ordered you to stay still. 

Frightened, you did.

He went back to touching you and carefully connecting the original injuries. These new wounds were thin and seeped a little blood, but he ignored that instead of cleaning you as he had before. Instead, he picked up the broken demon horn and dug through the innards of it, scraping out a gritty substance that collected under his fingernails. 

Still not telling you his intention, he rubbed the marrow on you. It sent waves of pain through you, at first; after the initial surprise it tingled like pins and needles on every open wound on your body. He applied a goodly amount to the bites he’d given you at your neck.

Rick ignored your cries of pain. When he finished, he looked you over again. 

“You need to wash,” he said, still without any explanation.

Laying on the floor, covered now with blood and demon marrow and with a pool of semen cold and sticky between your legs, you couldn’t agree more. Rick helped you up.

“Its cock and balls will be easy to powder,” he told you conversationally, as he followed you up the stairs. “They’ll be worth some money, although not as much as the horn.”

“Even though you hollowed some of it out?” you asked.

“Yes. You could sell bits and pieces of it, but a whole horn is hard to set a price for. They’re rare.”

You drew a bath. Rick watched and stayed with you as you eased into the warm water, but didn’t join you, despite the fact he was smeared in blood too. He idly picked out the hellmaggots that had burrowed into his skin and crushed them between his teeth to kill them. The water you sat in turned a muddy shade of grey as the various substances you’d been covered with dissolved. The marks Rick had made on you and smeared in demon marrow were black, like tattoos, in your skin. They were not like any sigils–-human or demonic-–you’d seen before. 

Several questions burned in your mind. You decided to ask about the uninvited demon that had invaded your home. Grudgingly, Rick agreed to talk about it. 

“It said it wasn’t Fallen?”

“It was never within Grace,” he agreed. “It was Hellfiend, created solely within the bowels of Hell. It was brought to life and fed on horror and misery. They’re very powerful beings. They torment human souls and Fallen alike.”

“But you beat it.”

Rick blinked his golden eyes slowly. “I only bested it with your assistance. You rectified my brandings, however temporarily, with your own blood.”

You cocked your head, trying to understand.

He continued in your confusion. “No creature formed in Hellfire can stand against beings God has brought forth. I’m Fallen, but originally walked beside Him. Your soul was held in His palm. We may not be welcomed, but as you saw, God doesn’t strip us of His power.”

You’d already seen that the blood you’d painted onto his back had started to flake away. You realized it wouldn’t be long, a day at the most, before it’d be gone and Rick would lose the power he’d gained tonight once again. You felt a sudden stab of remorse; he obviously knew that he’d be weakened again when they were gone. No wonder he didn’t join you in the bath. 

“I inscribed you with bastardized symbols,” Rick said quietly, drawing your attention back to him. “Angelic and demonic, for as much protection as I could provide.”

Once again you were confused. “What? Why? I could keep your brands whole with my blood! You don’t have to be powerless again!”

Rick shook his head. “No,” he disagreed. “You need to be strong and healthy. Continually opening a vein for me with that knife is a bad idea. It’s infused with influential spirits, bad spirits, and I won’t allow it.”

Nothing was making any sense. You knew exactly what your knife was made with, but you had proper protections in place to counter it. You opened your mouth to argue with him, but in a movement that was startling quick, like a snake, Rick was by your side and leaning in close. His eyes bore into yours, and you were frozen.

He made no threatening move towards you, however. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours. 

“You gave me back the power they’d shorn from me. But you’re no demon. Your human blood in demonic brands twisted everything. First I was within Grace, then Fallen, and then something new, because of what you did tonight.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you remained silent.

“I fucked you,” he continued. “I hope all of Hell was watching–-I triumphed over a Hellfiend on the mortal plane, and fucking you was a compulsion, my reward, just like my brothers would have done in my stead. Then, with arcane power flowing through me, I came inside you. But this time … this time I had power, and you weren’t protected by a chalk summoning circle …”

Worry and fright made you cold in the warm bath. With wide eyes and a dry throat, you managed to whisper, 

“What? What do you mean, Rick?”

He rubbed his head on yours for a moment, an oddly sweet act that startled you to realize was meant to be comforting and affectionate. You couldn’t tell if it was soothing for him, or meant for you. Rick pulled back and his golden eyes caught yours. You couldn’t look away.

“You’re pregnant,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument, although when he saw you weren’t processing the words he explained more clearly, “I got you pregnant, and you’ll be having a girl.”

Shocked by this more than anything else that transpired tonight, you were speechless. 

“We’ll name her Beth,” Rick continued, with a smirk that threatened to become a genuine smile.

_fin._


End file.
